


Be our guest

by Blamx



Category: Boku no Hero Academia
Genre: Beauty and the Beast AU, F/M, Female Midoriya Izuku, I have zero clue what I’m doing, Male Uraraka Ochako, Please be nice, Todo is a horse, but not graphic, first published story, genderbent, there is violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:40:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26597701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blamx/pseuds/Blamx
Summary: “Well, if it’s any consolation,” she began, twirling a strand of his hair around her finger, “I don’t think you’re a monster.” He looked up, brown eyes colliding with green, and grinned, a tiny fang poking against his lip, making her giggle.OrA genderbent Izuocha beauty and the beast au
Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Uraraka Ochako
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok. First published story. I like to info dump, so it might be a little boring in the beginning, but it’ll get better (hopefully). Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, but please don’t be mean. Enjoy!

The small blue book just sat quietly on her dresser. Izumi knew it wasn’t going to do anything but sit quietly on her dresser, but she still sat, staring, wishing it would do something. It was her favorite book, and, even though the thought was appalling, she’d begun to get bored of it.

She read the entire Mustafu library five times over-though that wasn’t saying much. The library, like the rest of town, was small and sleepy. It was quaint and kind and peaceful, but Izumi longed for adventure. She remembers, once, when she was very young, a family of travelers stayed at the Mustafu inn. 

They called themselves the Bakugou’s, and Izumi had made friend their daughter, Katsumi. Dubbed ‘Kacchan’, she had pranced around, Izumi never far behind, and had told stories of the kingdoms outside of this provincial town, and Izumi had been enraptured. The day after the Bakugou’s left, Izumi had spiraled into fantasy. Which then encouraged her to investigate her mother’s job. 

As an inventor, Inko Midoriya was a bright, forceful ball of creativity, and had helped the town more times than the elder could count. Inko had taken Izumi to the local library, where she’d fallen in love with the old tomes. Her mother would read to her by the fireplace, teaching her daughter about theorems and machinery. 

Speaking of her mother, Inko was no longer young and spry and successful. The influx of new ideas had run her into the ground—not that she knew it—and she was now thought of as the aging kook in the town. Izumi had to disagree. Though, it did slightly upset her that Inko still seemed to think of Izumi as her little girl. 

Izumi did have quite the tiny stature, but she was nineteen and should be treated as such. It was fine, though. She’d rather be her mother’s little girl than someone else’s adult. No one would ever understand Izumi like her mother and no one could ever have such animated conversations. Especially about the Festival. Which has been the topic in the Midoriya household for months. 

You see, every year, Mustafu and the nearby towns held a contest filled with inventions, called the Festival of the Minds. The winning invention, judged on how useful it is to the people and the economy, would be installed into the towns for the sake of easy living. Inko had never once taking her daughter despite talking about it, which was incredibly frustrating. All Izumi wanted to do was see the world outside this town. It stung, especially today, since her mother was leaving in an hour’s time to head to that festival.

“It’s rather windy out, isn’t it?” Inko remarked, turning away from the window. “Foggy, too.” Izumi looked up from her tea. It was really foggy. They were just entering the winter months, so fog had sort of settled. It got freezing at nighttime too, though days were bearable. “Is it safe out there?” Inko chuckled, waving a hand. “Oh, course it is, don’t be ridiculous dear! I was simply pointing it out.” 

She chuckled again, pouring herself cup of the tea. “And I have a new invention, one that will certainly help the townsfolk!” She said, her eyes shining. Izumi smiled. Seeing her mother light up like that—Izumi never wanted it to stop. “I’m confident you will.” She said. Inko’s face softened as she watched her daughter. 

A few tears slipped down her cheeks as she grabs her daughter’s hand. Izumi sniffled in response. The Midoriya’s had a history of leaky eyes. Though it wasn’t as common as when Izumi was younger. “Thank you, baby. I love you, and don’t you ever forget it.” Inko let out a breath, silently scolding herself. As a mother, she always got over emotional when it came to Izumi. 

Izumi though that she was oblivious, Inko knew she had little popularity left. But she would win the festival, for her town and her daughter. Inko checked the clock and then remembered something. “Shindo Yo stopped by earlier, when you were down in the workshop. Apparently he’s got his eye on you?” Izumi stiffened at that. “I’m not interested in Shindo.” She snapped. Inko blinked. If anything, her daughter was a idealist and romantic. 

And Shindo was successful, and quite attractive, in a large, ape-ish kid of way. “I’m not trying to hound your opinion, but I would like to know why—” Inko was interrupted by her daughter exploding out of her seat. “He’s a boorish, brainless brute and he couldn’t care less about my feelings! He wants me for my looks—which is quite deluded, they don’t exist—and some sob story he can profit out of!”

Inko blinked, taken aback. It wasn’t like Izumi to raise her voice, and she clearly felt strongly about the matter. Inko gently rubbed her back, and with a soft “Alright.”, she left to go grab her things. Which, fortunately, was fantastic timing, Inko had to take her leave. Kissing Izumi’s forehead, she mounted her horse and took off into the cloudy chill.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so, some things I didn’t mention. My writing style is kind of inconsistent, and this isn’t like the Disney movie, or the actual fairytale, I screw around with the story quite a bit. Just thought I’d let you loves know 😅

Izumi stood in front her mirror, contemplating. Her mother had mentioned Shindo’s incessant lusting after her, which had always made her wonder why. She never held a candle to the other girls. She never wore powder on her face, though she was teased to no end, Izumi believed she had better things to do with her time.

She had tried once, but it felt stifling, and she decided against it. Her light brown skin was even, Izumi could give herself credit for that, but the dark freckles smattered across her face ruined that effect. She had wild hair, barely contained in a ponytail, and was more muscular than most girls from helping her mother lug inventions to and fro. She had odd red boots that clashed with her mint green frock, and a black apron, also from her mother’s workshop. Being an assistant to Inko resulted in lots of oil and ink stains, so it was better to have a dark cover.

Wolves. 

She dug her heels into Shouko’s side, the two racing away through the trees. The growls yips we’re getting closer, and suddenly Inko was slammed into the ground, her breath knocked straight out of her. Shouko has bucked her off, the wolves biting at poor horse’s ankles. Inko started gurgling, yelping, anything to draw attention away from Shouko, who escaped back into the fog as soon as she got the chance. The wolves turned on Inko, hackles raised. Oh. Inko had forgot about that part. 

So the woman did the only reasonable thing one could do in that situation—she ran like a madperson. She was only a couple inches ahead of the wolves, sharp teeth catching on the back of her cloak. She began up a hill, gaining an extra centimeter of lead. A large, cast-iron gate peeked over the edge of the said hill. Refuge! Inko burst forwards even faster, something that shouldn’t be possible at her age and weight. 

She slammed into the gate, the rusted metal groaning before popping open, sending Inko tumbling. She swung the gate closed, successfully blocking the wolves. Inko would not question her miracles, instead turning tail and running up a dirt path to an estate, stopping just shy of it’s large doors. 

She heaved for a minute, catching her breath. She stood in front of the building a little longer before quietly entering. She wouldn’t be turned away. She needed help. Right? It was incredibly dark inside, the only light coming from a crackling fireplace in the corner. Inko stalked over and began to warm herself. “Hello?” Her call echoed eerily back to her. “Is anyone here?” At that, there was a rustling of clothing in the far side of the room. Inko gasped, pressing back against mantelpiece. The fire beside her winked out, leaving her alone in black. Inko tensed. She knew the way to the door. She could get out. Yeah. Edging away from the mantlepiece, she brushed something. A hand. Inko froze, still registering. The hand twitched, and grabbed her own.

Izumi sighed. The Midoriya’s had such picky chickens that the merchants had to go to the back of their small shop and mix all the seed, nevermind that there were five customers in front of her. On the bright side, it gave her lots of time to read her book—again—and the shepherd’s dog had settled by her feet. A good half hour later, she was called to collect her birdseed. 

Izumi stood up and almost immediately crashed into a solid chest. One beefy arm held her steady as the other plucked the book out of her hands. “How do you read this? There’s no pictures.” Shindo said, peering at the pages. “Well,” She said, collecting herself, “some of us use our imagination.” She couldn’t help her pink cheeks. He was just so close! Shindo shook his head, tossing the book behind him, right into a muddy puddle. 

“Girls like you have much better things to do than-” he paused, face souring. “-read.” Izumi frowned. “I can’t think of anything else I’d like to do.” She stepped around him, reaching for her book, but Shindo turned with her and placed his boot on the pages. “You can’t think of anything better?” Izumi shook her head. Shindo looked surprised, before spreading his arms wide. “You could marry me, of course!” He beamed. Once again, Izumi couldn’t hold back a blush. It really was gorgeous smile, though his personality ruined his pleasant features. 

She bent down and pulled her book out from beneath Shindo’s boot. “I have birdseed to pick up.” She took her bags from the merchant with a soft “Thank you”, and headed home, Shindo’ calling out inappropriate things after her. God, what was her life anymore? She fed the chickens, cleaned her mother’s workshop, and was currently laying in the long grass behind her house. 

All she wanted was adventure, out in the great wide somewhere, anything but this boring life in this boring town and the horse to stop blocking the sun she was enjoying—wait. Izumi shot up, just barley getting away before Shouko trampled her. Grabbing the mare’s reins, she gently stroked Shouko’s mane until the horse was still. “What-Where’s mom?” She was answered with a upset whinny. 

Running to the front, she grabbed her cloak and mounted the horse. As soon as Izumi swung onto the saddle, Shouko was tearing though the town, towards the frightening woods. Izumi yelped, thanking the stars she was strong enough to stay atop the animal, though a nice smack to the face by a branch slowed Shouko down.

They galloped a while, taking strange turns until they reached an imposing mansion, towering and dark. Izumi felt a chill run down her spine, but she pushed on anyways. There was a gate blocking the path, but it unhinged fairly easily. 

Izumi admired the chips and dents in the sides, showing that the old iron had been blemished by force. Strange. Urging Shouko forwards, the eventually reached a pair of great oak doors, slightly ajar. Izumi tied Shouko’s reins to a sconce outside before tentatively slipping into the dark. 

“Hello?” Izumi called. There was a small flickering along the wall, a candelabra. She gently picked it up from its stand, waving it in front of her. There was a winding staircase to the right. Izumi tentatively climbed it. It was not as dark at the top, moonlight was filtering in through a window. “Hello?” Izumi couldn’t bring herself to speak louder than a whisper. 

There was a cough from the corner. Whipping around, Izumi saw her mother’s face in between thick bars. “Izumi?”  
“Mom!” Inko hacked again, shaking her head. “Honey, you have to get out!” Izumi ignored her. “Your hands are like ice. I’ll see if I can find a key, take this.” Izumi shoved her cloak through the bars. Inko grabbed her wrist. “No-”

“That woman stays.” A voice rang from the corner, startling Izumi. She stumbled, dropping the candelabra, the flames snuffing, the only light was the moon. Inko’s moaned pitifully, grabbed Izumi’s hand once more. “Leave. Now.” The voice said, this time with an outline stalking around in the dark. 

Izumi tried to call out, but only made a sad little squeak. “I will not ask again.” The voice was irritated now, dangerously quiet and dangerously close. “Let her go.” Izumi cringed at how weak she sounded. “What?” The voice asked sharply, and Izumi flinched. She slowly stood on shaky legs and said, firmer this time, “Let. My mother. Go. I will not ask again.” 

She swelled in pride, the voice making a noncommittal sound. “And why,” the figure stepped forwards, light glinting of oddly soft chestnut eyes “do you propose I do that? This woman is my prisoner. Your family is not my problem.” Izumi blinked, thinking it over. The voice was right, though lacking human compassion. “You can take me instead.” Izumi slapped a hand over her mouth. She didn’t plan on saying that. But she meant it. The voice hummed. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then.” Inko began to scream, begging the figure for mercy on her daughter. The figure tossed a key at Izumi’s feet, turning away. “Wait!” The figure paused, then looked over their shoulder. “Come in to the light.” Izumi wanted to know who her captor-to-be was. There was click of a tongue, and the figure stepped in to the moonlight. It was a man, around Izumi’s age, and maybe half a head taller. 

Those chestnut eyes were back, large and sweet, and shaggy brown hair, a little longer in the front than it was in the back. He was fairly muscular, and had small, cute nose and rosy cheeks. All in all, he did not look like someone who’d even belong in this manor, much less have a prisoner. But he was offset by tattoos. They were ghastly, covering his entire body, creating the illusion of fur. He had two twisting horns protruding from his forehead, small fangs, and black claws were his fingernails should be. 

Meeting his eyes again, Izumi sucked in a breath. They were not cold, but rather unsure, and barely there, just a quick flash, fear. Izumi remembered something Kacchan told her once. She didn’t remember what they were talking about, only that the blond had said “They are more scared of you then you are of them.” And there was something inside Izumi—call it curiosity, that wanted to understand this beast. 

The man came closer, and for a second, she thought he would eat her. But all he did was bend over, pick up the key, and unlock the door Inko was behind. Inko scrambled out, wrapping her arms around her daughter. The man stepped forwards and took the panicked woman’s hand, again, with surprising gentleness—and led her out the door and into a stationary carriage. 

“Take this one back, Hitoshi.” He said, tapping the wood. The carriage pushed itself off the ground—a shrieking Inko inside—and released an odd noise akin to a grumble before taking off towards the town. Izumi gasped. She had never seen a contraption like that, being able to get up on its own, and she certainly hadn’t known anyone who named their carriage. 

How strange. 

Then again, this whole situation was strange, so Izumi guessed that she shouldn’t be so surprised. Entering the manor again, the man said “I’ll show you to your room.” Izumi blinked. “Wait, aren’t I staying, you know, there?” She asked, motioning towards the barren stone tower. “Uh, no-” the mans voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “-I just need the key. Would you mind picking him up?”

“The candelabra?”

“Yes.” She did as she was told, muttering to herself. Why did the man refer to the candelabra as ‘he’? Well, anyone who actively named their carriage and candelabra couldn’t be all that bright. She hadn’t even realized they were walking until they stopped in front of a blue door. The man looked like he wanted to say something, but in the end he just walked away, leaving Izumi alone. 

After a minute of hesitation, she nudged open the door, peering at the inside. It was a nice room, all silk canopies and plush rugs. Setting the candelabra on the dresser, she curled up on the large bed. Despite the lavishness, she’d much rather be at home with her mother. 

The day’s events finally catching up to her, she began to sob. She didn’t know how long she cried until a voice broke her reverie. “It’s all disappointing sometimes, but chin up!” Snapping up, she looked around the room. It wasn’t the man who said that, so where was that coming from? There was a chuckle from the dresser. 

Looking over, Izumi saw the candelabra. Which had a face. A face. The candle—the candelabra has a face! Izumi screamed, scrambling back onto the bed. “Hey-it’s alright. I won’t hurt you.” The candle shushed her. Izumi gasped for breath. “You-what? How? I-” she shook her head. “I’m Denki. Uh, Kaminari Denki. Also known as the light of your life, heh.” Izumi exhaled, calmer. Puns are useful, she guesses. 

Her curiosity kicked in, and she scooted close. There was a click of the door and a pendulum clock waddled in, followed by a tray with a teapot and a chipped teacup, all with faces. “Don’t listen to him,” said the clock, hopping up onto the bed, “Iida Tenya, at your service.” Izumi smiled. “You know, your time is wrong.” Iida covered his clock, embarrassed. “Yes, I run quite fast.” Izumi pokes him in the belly, earning a sputter. 

The teapot smiled. “I’m Mandalay. This is Kota.” The chipped cup hopped into her lap, careful not to slosh the tea inside. 

“Hey! Wanna see a trick?”

“Kota!” Kota scrunched up his face, the tea hovering above his rim before sloshing back in. Iida cleated his throat. “Now don’t fill her up, she still has to eat dinner.” A shriek sounded next to Izumi’s ear. Turning, she saw the wardrobe muttering in...in— “French.” Denki grumbled. “That’s Aoyama Yuga” whispered Mandalay, “they’ll be dressing you.” The wardrobe giggled. “Lucky for you, I’m the best! Now what to choose, what to choose...” 

They suddenly perked up with an “aha!” And opened their doors only to immediately shut them as a group of moths flew out. “Oh! Well, that’s embarrassing!” The wardrobe exclaimed sheepishly. Kaminari laughed. The odd household items talked with Izumi and time ticked away, and for once, outside of her books, Izumi felt free. In a fantasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you’re probably wondering, “isn’t Uraraka poor?” And I promise I’ll explain it in the next chapter. Thanks for reading!


	3. Not an update

Hi! I’ve Ben gone for a while, I’ve had quite a bit to do. I just wanted to let you loves know that I might not update for a while. This work WILL be finished, but I’m working on other things and I’ve never written a straight ship before, so I’m having burnout. Thanks for reading, you time and consideration, and again, this will get finished.

**Author's Note:**

> Short chapter, but how do we like this? Anything that should be changed?


End file.
